


Sons and Daughters

by MiaLyn



Series: Son [5]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League (2017), Justice League - All Media Types, Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Part 2, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaLyn/pseuds/MiaLyn
Summary: "Some guy is stalking my son, a madman is murdering curators specialized in the Greco-Roman civilization all over the world and Dick had his ass kicked by an unknown woman. Oh, and did I mention Diana wants to fly over to some godforsaken land to meet a guy that may or may not talk to fish even though she's this close to give birth?" Bruce snapped angrily.Zatanna raised an unimpressed eyebrow."And that is what Alfred deals with all day long?"
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Bruce Wayne
Series: Son [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1324472
Comments: 51
Kudos: 277





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here it comes...This is the official sequel to 'Son'. Not really imaginative with the title, but I was kinda stuck, so...I hope you will enjoy this :)

**Sons and daughters**

Marriage of the century kept under wraps?

By Vicky Vale

_The event went largely unnoticed but still happened under our unsuspecting eyes. In the past few months, we have learned quite a few things: we are not alone in this universe, and earth is sheltering an alien. Well, the controversy of his presence if not the subject here. I would rather like to focus on something that had occurred under our nose, rather uncharacteristically sneaky coming from that person. He might not be a rock star, but he is well-known and well-loved amongst our city._

_To those who are unfamiliar with the man, this handsome billionaire is well-known for his various good deeps, starting from charity to reacting faster than the government to send useful protection tools on an invasion site and helping out first-hand in the aftermath. I speak of No-Longer-Most-Eligible-Bachelor Bruce Wayne._

_Yes, your eyes have not deceived you. The Prince of Gotham has gotten hitched shortly after the terrible events of Metropolis. After forty years of swearing off marriage, our favorite socialite has settled down with a woman and her child._

_The lucky lady comes from Paris, a curator in Antiquities from the Louvre. Diana Prince, now officially known as Diana Prince-Wayne, has disregarded the dangers of aliens and Gotham’s reputation to settle in the city with her new husband. She is the proud mother of a five-year-old boy that Bruce Wayne adopted as his own. When first Richard Grayson, Mr. Wayne’s first legally adopted son, was contacted about the potential division of his inheritance, he declined any conflict._

_‘They_ _[AN: Mrs. Prince-Wayne and her son]_ _are a good influence on Bruce. I haven’t seen him this happy in years. Diana is a kind and patient woman, but she won’t let him have his way with everything and that’s exactly what he needed. I’m glad to call them family.’_

_Our main couple declined to answer any questions, quoting the need for privacy._

**Gotham, Lake House**

Bruce put down the newspaper and grunted in annoyance. The panic surrounding the alien invasion had slowly died down. The news was still mentioning the invasion, though more in smaller articles. But now, people were starting to tire of hearing of the threats from outer space. In their mind, the invasion was old news. Their attention had shifted onto the very mediatized Superman. They scrutinized his every move and discussed his existence with awe and fear. And now, even Superman was not enough to distract the journalists.

He should have expected Vicky to be the first on his trail. His brief dalliance with the journalist had convinced him he should stay well-away from women working in that profession in the future. She could have been great for Bruce Wayne, but not so great for his secret identity. Granted, it had been three months since their marriage; but he would have rather hidden Diana and Hippolyte from the front scene a while longer. Not that they needed hiding or anything, but his protective instincts could not be reasoned with. And what on earth had Dick been telling the media?

“Is there something wrong?”

He glanced up and was met with Diana’s watchful eyes. This morning, she had dressed with a thick white top that elegantly molded her breasts but spread loosely over her stomach. One could barely guess she was six-months pregnant. He immediately felt himself softening. Ever since their hasty marriage, both were slowly growing to learn about each other. The _lasso_ _incident_ had brought them closer and given them perspective, but some things still needed to be _said_. Still, he loved being able to share his life with someone who understood, someone he didn’t need to hide from –and someone he genuinely respected and cared for.

Diana took the seat next to him, the same inquiring light in her eyes. He wordlessly handed her the newspaper. The article itself wasn’t big –a fourth page notice at best –without even a picture, but others might soon follow. Diana hummed noncommittally, a small frown on her face as she read it.

“Well, I suppose it was meant to happen,” she declared. She did not look upset, which reassured him. Her eye trailed towards the thicker paper craft envelope laying open on the table. “And this is…?”

“Blueprints for Wayne Manor,” he replied. “The architect sent them back this morning with drawings of the rooms. He took in account the last alterations we demanded.” He paused and added softly, feeling the blush creeping up his cheeks: “Hip’s bedroom will be moved further down the hall.”

The same smile of embarrassment came upon Diana’s face. While Hippolyte had learned to stay away from his parents’ bedroom for their ‘alone time’, he was still incredibly curious about their activities. And being caught in the act once was the kind of embarrassment he did not want to repeat. 

Diana suddenly ‘ah-ed’ and instinctively reached for her stomach. Bruce felt the same rush of adrenaline ran up and down his spine whenever her pregnancy was involved. Sometimes it felt like worry. Sometimes, he desperately envied Diana for being so close to the life they had created.

“Is she moving again?” he asked.

Instead of answering, she took his hand and spread it over her belly. Not for the first time, he felt the flutter underneath his hand and his heartbeat rushed even faster. A huge smile split his face. The adrenaline was replaced by unaltered joy mixed with fear. He still remembered the day Diana had returned to that little apartment back in Paris, the strangest expression on her face. Alfred had been near tears upon hearing the new and Dick had looked odd but his congratulations had sounded genuine nonetheless. Bruce had made his peace with the situation faster than he expected. Now, he wanted nothing more but to welcome their daughter into this world.

The sound of footsteps interrupted their musings. Hippolyte would soon be running to the kitchen to wolf down his breakfast. Bruce removed his hand, although not before caressing the bump one last time. His smile slowly faded as another thought came forward. The baby’s arrival was not the only thing on his mind. He had spent an extra hour down the cave last night, working on a hunch that had occurred to him during patrol. The gut instinct had paid off.

“I found a lead on our time-traveler last night,” he announced. Diana’s attention was back on him. “I may have his name.”

“Really?” she sounded surprised but quickly schooled her face. She too had heard the sounds announcing their son’s arrival.

“We can talk about this tonight,” he added and she nodded in agreement. Confirming the man’s identity could wait another day.

The little ball of energy known as Hippolyte Prince-Wayne busted into the room, fully dressed with his school uniform and his mope of dark hair. Just like every time Bruce saw him, he felt a mix of love and pride grow in his chest. The five year old boy’s attitude had not changed an inch since he had moved to Gotham, something Bruce was infinitively grateful for. His greatest fear had been about his son’s difficulty to acclimate to his new environment. Diana had assured him though that Hip could make his home wherever his feet landed, as long as he was surrounded by people he loved.

“Hello father!” he greeted Bruce by pulling his sleeve down so he could kiss his cheek. He turned towards Diana and gave her a healthy hug. “Morning mother!” he said next. Then he pressed his cheek to her stomach and spoke much quieter: “Hello Brianna.”

Bruce and Diana exchanged a fond stare. Ever since he learned he was having a baby sister, Hippolyte had refused to change his mind about her name. Bruce was even considering giving in and keeping ‘Brianna’ after all. He knew Diana was fond of the idea too.

“Alfred made pancakes,” Bruce announced. The poor man always made a point of honor of preparing the breakfast and seeing them off. Hip abandoned his mother’s belly in favor of jumping on his chair and picking up his food.

He leaned back in his chair, watched the picturesque, almost boring, everyday-life scenario happening before him. He was sitting with his wife and child, simply having breakfast. The only missing people were Alfred and Dick. The former had left early for grocery shopping and the latter would stop by for the weekly family diner. But in overall, his family was there, was safe, and he couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt happier.

**Metropolis - Daily Planet**

“Are you considering leaving us for the competition?”

Lois jumped and dropped her reading. Behind her, Lombard and Jenny were glancing at the article headline and the newspaper from which it came from. She groaned inwardly. Her two colleagues had grown thicker than thieves ever since the invasion, most likely because Lombard hadn’t abandoned his colleague to her fate even though he was very tempted to.

“Bruce Wayne got hitched?” Lombard thought out loud. “When did that happen?”

His words caught the attention of a few more colleagues. In the past few months, the Prince of Gotham had turned into a small sensation in Metropolis. His quick actions after the invasion –providing transport for the wounded and protection for the volunteers – had not gone unnoticed. Whether they were those of a businessman promoting his image or another of his many act of philanthropy, many lives had been saved due to the reactivity of his teams. And when his presence at the site was known, when the social media started showing pictures of him digging through the debris amongst others civilians, his popularity had skyrocketed.

“Shortly after the invasion,” Lois replied as she put the newspaper down. “I think he used the media coverage so that his wedding would go unnoticed.”

Lombard whistled.

“Sneaky bastard –that was _months_ ago.”

Jenny approached in turn and scanned the article.

“There’s nothing much on the lady. A curator from the Louvre? Sounds like a gold-digger who got her claws into his back.” 

“I met her,” Lois retorted sharply. “She’s not a gold-digger.”

Various variations of ‘when did that happened’ echoed around her desk, but Lois was not giving up more details. Their two meetings had been brief and under awkward circumstances, and conversation hadn’t lasted long, but she trusted her guts. And her guts told her that Diana Prince might have slept with Bruce Wayne, but she would not be content with a mere financial arrangement. Even so, she doubted someone like Wayne would let anyone put a ring on his finger if he didn’t have a genuine interest in said lady. And from what she had deduced from the scene at the airport, Bruce Wayne had plenty good reasons to marry her.

“She’s gorgeous?” one of her colleagues asked.

“Definitively _his_ kind of gorgeous,” Lois retorted with a smirk. She remembered thinking along those lines the first time she had laid eyes on Diana Prince. Bruce Wayne _did_ have exquisite taste in women.

“And her kid? You met him too?”

Her smirk softened into a smile as she remembered the sweet child, the determined expression on his face as he firmly intending to hear a story from her –before telling one of his own.

“He’s a cutie and really smart.” Her smile faded slightly at the memory of his words, of how his candor had changed her approach of her hunting down Clark. The child might never know how much his remarks pushed her to pull back her online article, even though the damage was already done.

“Then you will be in charge of interviewing her.”

She jumped again and this time, turned around to meet the eye of her boss.

Perry had changed since the invasion. Though he was still the sharp investigator she knew, he sometimes slipped into a disturbing quietness. She knew he still made research on that mysterious woman who killed Zod in his free time, like a self-mission. His maneuvering of the Daily Planet to support Superman was one of the few reasons why she hadn’t lost faith in him yet.

“I don’t interview celebrities,” she shot back. Perry harrumphed and frowned in a way that meant she would not get out on top of this argument.

“Knowing Bruce Wayne, he will not let any journalist approach his family within a ten feet pole. Now, you are already familiar with her and they will have to confront the press one day. Metropolis craves news about their new favorite billionaire and a Clooney marriage always sells.” He looked slightly satisfied with himself. “Imagine that, Metropolis beating Gotham in a Bruce Wayne matter.”

_Ah, the old city rivalry_ , she though with a small smile. His professional face returned as he went on:

“Jimmy’s still out of the picture with his broken leg. You’re taking Stacey with you,” he added. Lois lost her smile. The young woman had integrated the Daily Planet thanks to the unique pictures she had taken during the invasion. Perry had declared she had guts to immortalize such scenes while the world was falling apart around her. A little research had shown she had also participated in the rescue actions aftermath. Lois had no personal issue with the new recruit, but she did not like being imposed a coworker whose work ethic she hadn’t tested yet. “She’s still an intern, but she’ll do- _Stacey_!”

At the sound of her name, the young woman who had been merely walking through the room, paused and turned towards her boss.

“Yes Perry?”

“You and Lois are out for an interview. I want pretty pictures –a family picture too if you can catch one. Follow Lois’s lead and you’ll be fine.”

The young recruit smile, looking slightly amused.

“Will do boss,” she replied lightly. “When are we going?”

“The moment Lois secures an interview, you’re up. If she calls in the middle of the night, you drop everything you’re doing and you’re going.”

“I don’t even have a phone to call on them! It’s not like Wayne will let anyone walk through the front door and ask for an interview; I won’t even get past his secretary,” Lois protested, although weakly. Perry sent her an unimpressive stare; they both knew that had never stopped her before.

“Then do your job and find a way.”

Lois groaned dramatically. She heard a few snickers from her colleagues, ignored them all. Stacy stood by her side, an understanding look in her eyes.

“I’ll ask around,” she offered. “If Mrs. Wayne was a curator, she might still be working for a museum or something. I have contacts in the art world. If she’s working in the area, I’ll know in a few hours.”

Either the girl was trying to be helpful, or she was trying to get on Perry’s good side.

“I’ll look it up too,” Lois replied and sat back straight. “First to find her calls the other?”

Stacey smiled, her eyes glinting lightly. She was pretty, Lois thought absentmindedly, almost too pretty for her job. She looked more like a photograph for fashion models than a photojournalist, but whatever. Lois was not bad looking either and _she_ was good at her job.

“I have your number, I’ll call you,” Stacy said in the same amused tone, before marching away.

Lois huffed, halfway affronted, halfway annoyed. _Rookies_ , she thought uncharitably. Good for her if she had contacts in the art world. Her articles had a different kind of orientation, but Perry had given her a task and she would go through it. And she wouldn’t mind seeing Diana again.

She instinctively looked around, sought for traces of another recent dark-haired colleague. Clark was nowhere in the room, though she didn’t doubt he must have heard every bit of conversation. She stood from her desk, decided a coffee would be welcomed and headed towards the machine. She found him in the corridor, his eyes glued to his phone. Whatever he was reading must have been catching, as he did not seem to hear her approach.

“ _That_ man of all people?” she heard him mutter under his breath. “Seriously, what were you thinking?”

He suddenly realized she was standing near him and immediately focused his attention on her. Interestingly, Lois noted in the back of her mind that he had lowered his phone before she could take a proper look at the screen. Said phone immediately disappeared in his back pocket. To anyone else, the gesture was normal. To her, he seemed uncomfortable, as if she had caught him with a hand in the cookie jar. 

“Hey, you’re alright?” she asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” he said, though his smile felt tight. “I heard Perry. Interviewing the former playboy billionaire? Congratulations.”

Was it her, or did he sound a little bitter? She narrowed her eyes, put her fists on her hips.

“You’re not jealous are you?”

Their relationship was still growing at slow pace, though he could show himself a little overprotective. She didn’t mind when it was just the two of them. However, the workplace was a different matter. Superman or not, he would not impede on her work.

Clark huffed and shook his head.

“Of course not. I hope you’ll get in contact with her quickly and be over with it. I know you’re interested in other stories.” He paused briefly, hesitated before asking: “You want me to come with you when you find her?”

Lois’s frown deepened even more. What was going on with him?

“I think I can handle Bruce Wayne and his new wife. I’ve met them, they didn’t scare me.” When he said nothing, she knew something was up. “Clark, are you sure is everything alright?”

He opened his mouth, paused, and angled his head sideways. Lois knew what it meant and sighed in frustration. He had heard another cry for help.

“We’ll talk later, promise,” he said apologetically. She rolled her eyes but made a shoo motion with her hand. Sometimes she wished she could actually be angry at him for dumping her in the middle of conversations. If only he didn’t actually have a very good damn reason to do so!

“Tonight,” she countered. “Thai. And you’re paying.”

Clark smiled in agreement, his acceptance of her olive branch. The slight show of his white teeth did something to her heart and her frustration melted. He left his desk, headed out the door, but not before brushing her hand on the way. Lois couldn’t help the small grin and watched him leave. She would have her answers, but in the meantime, she had an ex-curator to hunt down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for the lack of updates. To cut things shot, I was depressed after the loss of my job and was in no mood to write. I also got sucked into the webnovel Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint -551 chapters of awesomeness, gotta read them all xD.  
> Anyway, please read and enjoy :)

**Sons and Daughters**

**2**

Diana frowned as she compared the catalogue and the piece of ancient pottery in front of her. Something didn’t seem right. There was a fracture on the handle that was not supposed to be there. Or rather, the fracture was not supposed to be this…wide. Unless the senders had lied upon its condition when they had done their report, which was another possibility.

She sighed heavily and leaned back against the chair. Now she understood why other museum curators didn’t like lending their possessions to Gotham –the risk of being stolen or having the piece compromised was too great. According to colleagues, this was not the first time that they had received unsavory findings upon delivery. The running joke was that others could send the pieces they had damaged to Gotham, it would never be proven that _the senders_ were the cause of said damage. The fault also fell upon the so-called experts supposed to check the condition of the piece before sending it. She suspected Mr. Harper to have pocketed quite a few bribes to turn a blind eye. Thank the gods he had been fired three weeks ago.

Her musings were interrupted by a discreet knock on the door of her office.

“Diana, may I have a word?”

Diana looked up from her desk and the catalogue she had just been going through. Mr. Travers, or Tony, as he insisted everyone called him, was standing in the doorway. He looked like he had slept in his clothes for the past two nights. An ancient book from the Gotham Archives had been stolen as it was making its way to the Museum, and he had to bear the responsibility. She felt slightly guilty about it: Bruce had been staying at the manor the night of the robbery because she had felt nauseous and in very poor mood. It was a good thing Hippolyte had been sent to stay Dick –she was certain even Bruce had expanded his cursing vocabulary.

“I have a favor to ask,” he started, shifting from one foot to another. “I have to leave for a last-minute meeting with a new collector –the guy wanted to meet later today but turns out he moved up his schedule and is expecting me for lunch. The shipment from New York will arrive this afternoon and I might not make it back in time. Do you mind covering for me if I’m late?”

Diana leaned back in her seat and frowned, perplexed.

“A shipment from New York?” she echoed. “I didn’t realize we were expecting more arrivals.”

Tony grinned slightly and his features lightened with excitement.

“With the late events, people have been growing more interested in all kinds of mythology. Higher-ups hinted it would be nice to put forward the civilizations with gods in their daily lives.” His grin turned smug. “I’ll make the official announcement later, but last week I could negotiate _carte blanche_ to put my greedy hands on anything ancient-god-like related for a new exposition. I’ve been meaning to put forward the Greco-Roman civilizations.” He grimaced. “San Francisco is hogging all the Egyptian stuff and Washington is having a thing for Norse gods lately –I have to learn to pick my battles.”

While the news were surprised her, Diana did feel impressed with the feat. She had learned through the past months that, although her head of department was a genuine history buff, he could negotiate and make people buy his arguments like a professional conman. It sometimes made her wonder how he couldn’t hold back the former curator. Perhaps he just wasn’t keen on keeping him?

“It’s just to check the list of items they are lending us,” Tony added. “Shouldn’t take much of your time –since you are the expert, I don’t expect any troubles. If something seems off, just stall them. I won’t let Luthor Jr. hold onto me for over three hours.”

Upon hearing the name, Diana’s smile fell slightly. Her supervisor didn’t seem to notice and went on absentmindedly:

“If that guy is anything like his father, I’m not letting any of my employees alone with him. That goat had the means to make a mobster shake in his boots.”

“And you are not afraid of him?” she asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

The man snorted.

“Please, I’ve dealt with old sharks _and_ little boys before,” he said and huffed loudly. Diana felt amused that the man wouldn’t consider Luthor as a threat. “Reminds me, I had a call from someone working at the Daily Planet in Metropolis. They are eagerly trying to secure an interview before a Gotham paper can. Should I tell them to shove off or give you the number they left behind?” 

Before she could answer, her personal phone rang. A quick glance at the number told Diana everything she needed to know.

“I have to take this,” she said apologetically. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you if you’re not back in time. And just leave me the number, I’ll deal with it.”

Tony dropped a piece of paper on the corner of her desk and made a small salute as he left the room. The moment he closed the door, she unlocked the screen and spoke:

“Hello Henry.”

There was a small beat of silence, like a hesitation, then Clark Kent, aka Henry, spoke:

_“Hello Diana.”_

He sounded soft but warm. He sounded like he wasn’t certain why he was calling, or rather, if calling was a good idea at all.

“It has been a few months,” she went on when it became clear he wouldn’t talk unless prompted. “How have you been?”

 _“Good,”_ he replied, this time more calmly. “ _I’ll go straight to the point. The article in the Gotham Gazette caught some people’s attention back at the Planet. Perry wants Lois to interview you because of your tie to Bruce Wayne.”_

She remembered he was now working for said newspaper, thus would be privy to this kind of information. And with her head department getting calls too, it might only be a matter of days before reporters tried to show up at her doorstep. 

“I am aware,” she muttered. It seemed she and Bruce would have to face the media sooner than later. Even though they might not be in the headlines, they needed to control what would be written. “Why should Metropolis be interested in Bruce?”

 _“Your husband got very popular after the…_ events _, and truth be told, people need a little cheering._ ” He replied honestly. “ _You should do it. Lois is a professional and she won’t step over your bounds.”_

“Did you tell her about me?”

 _“I never found the right moment and I didn’t want to betray your trust.”_ Diana blinked in surprised. She thought he would have told her by now. _“Does your husband know about_ me _?”_

Diana leaned back and bit back a sigh. She didn’t miss that he would not name Bruce willingly or use the term ‘husband’ without a hint of bitterness.

“Bruce does. If Metropolis hadn’t happen, he would not. I’m glad I told him though. In spite of his reputation, he can keep a secret.”

_“I suppose he found out my real name too?”_

“He did,” she admitted. “He – _we_ know everything there is to know about ‘Clark Kent’ on paper. The rest is none of our business.” 

She paused for a moment, thought about Bruce’s latest research concerning the kryptonite particle. They hadn’t discussed whether they should inform the alien of their discovery or not. Before meeting Bruce, she might have mentioned it out of fairness. Now, she wasn’t certain she wanted to say anything at all. Having Bruce investigate Clark Kent was one thing, having them discovering his weakness was another story altogether. And she didn’t want unnecessary questions coming her way. She could take down Clark if needed. Bruce was just a mortal and needed all the edges he could find.

“We won’t interfere with your life, Henry,” she went on truthfully. “Bruce knows better, and even if he tries, I won’t allow him to.”

 _“I will have to take your word for it,_ ” he said reluctantly. Diana nearly sorted at his defeated tone; had he already forgotten he had a means to pressure her in case he felt threatened?

“Give Lois my number,” she added. “I trust you will know what to do about the rest.”

It didn’t really matter if he spoke to Lois at this point; both Bruce and she had expected him to do so months ago. And Bruce was positive the journalist wouldn’t betray them, if only because she had kept Superman’s identity for herself. Her tongue wouldn’t easily waggle. It wouldn’t hurt to give her a little incentive under the guise of cooperation to keep her friendly.

 _“I will_ ,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. _“Thank you.”_

“Anytime,” Diana replied and hung up. She contemplated her phone, glanced at the clock, and figured Bruce’s meeting must have ended by now before dialing his number. They had a long night of planning ahead.

**D &S**

Dick hurried pressed the gas pedal the moment the light turned green. He was picking up Hip at school –a request from the boy’s parents as they had much to _discuss_. He personally thought they would also take advantage of Hip’s absence to just do whatever healthy couple would do without a kid in the premises…but hey, he genuinely liked spending time with his little brother and didn’t need excuses.

Though this time, he would be slightly late. A last-minute call at the office had requested everyone’s attention. The commissioner had just spent half an hour assigning roles for a new case –a particularly gruesome one at that, before he was allowed to leave the premise.

 _‘Damn murderers,_ ’ he thought thunderously. It was a good thing he had accumulated months’ worth of time off, else his latest periodical holidays might have not be so well accepted by his colleagues. He had head word that people thought he was slacking off. Then again, he also overheard Detective Rohrbach claim that she would rather have him take a day off here and there and be in good mood instead of keeping at the office for months and have him bite everyone’s head off. Gothamites had, after all, a _reputation_. And _she_ , as his partner, had to deal with him.

Thus, the new case was officially out of his hands and he was free to go. Still, he felt uneasy at the thought of leaving an unsolved crime behind. Years of being Robin couldn’t stop him from being drawn to unsolved justice. He intellectually knew he could not single-handedly solve every murder in town –he had already taken years to establish Nightwing as a threat in the criminal circles –and his colleagues _were_ trained cops. They could handle a single case without him.

His car slowed as he finally approached Hippolyte’s school. Firmly decided to brush away his guilt, he parked quickly, hurried up the alley leading to the entrance and pushed the door.

_BAM_

_“Motherfu-!“_

The door hit someone on the other side and Dick grimaced as stepped back. It closed back with a soft _thud_ , muffling the curse of the unfortunate other person –a woman, according to her tone. He pushed it again, slower this time, and came face-to-face with his victim. A female, brown-haired, eyes closed, hands covering her nose. Tallish figure, dressed in a pair of black denims and red shirt, a big square bag bouncing over her hip. Familiar-looking, he thought, before he realized that it was _that_ woman again.

The one he’d seen at the destruction site of Metropolis. The one who had observed him a few months back, when he and Hippolyte had been wandering in town. He had passed it off as a coincidence at first. But now that she stood here, muttering curses under her breath, perhaps he should reevaluate.

“Are you alright?” he asked nonetheless.

The woman opened her eyes, a firm frown on her face. The fierceness of her glare almost made him flinch.

“I’ll survive,” she replied, clearly annoyed and without a hint of recognition. She closed her eyes again and slightly removed her hand. A red liquid started dripping down the corner of her mouth. “Damn it,” she cursed again, turned around and headed to another door –lady’s room. Dick was about to follow her when something hit his legs and soon he felt small arms tightening around his knee. When he lowered his head, he knew he would be glancing at a mop of dark hair and sparking blue eyes.

“You came!” Hippolyte’s wide grin made him smile in return. 

Hip was standing alone in the corridors near the entrance. Dick did not want to know how he had managed to escape the teacher’s attention to sneak out and greet him. He even wondered how the boy had known he had arrived at all. Spying from the window perhaps? He’d have to ask later.

“Course I did,” he replied and ran a hand in his hair. “Wouldn’t miss an evening with my favorite brother.”

Warmth grew in his chest and an eerie happy feeling invaded his body. By now, Dick easily recognized Hip’s emotional influence. The boy still had trouble reigning his feelings, but then he didn’t expect miracles from a five-year-old boy. Even without his gift, seeing his half-brother brought some peace. He and Jason had a tumultuous relationship from the start, but the affection had become real after a while. Hippolyte was different; he was young and innocent -though not clueless, charming and smart –far too smart sometimes, and he had accepted that Dick was family from the very beginning. And that made Dick _feel_ like family.

“I’m your only brother,” Hip protested with a pout before changing subjects. “Can we eat pizza?”

Dick was about to reply when he noted the woman stepping out of the bathroom again. Her nose had turned purple and red, decorating her glaring face. He winced at the sight; he had suffered worse injuries in the past, but that kind of bruise always stung.

“Hey, you’re okay?” Dick repeated, feeling guilty again. Coincidence or not, she didn’t deserve a shiner. 

“Watch the door next time,” she snapped back, and he was certain she would have spurted more had a small voice not interrupted.

“Hey, don’t be mad at Dick:”

Silence fell upon the corridor as every gaze merged upon the little boy. The woman stared in irritation and Dick –Dick suddenly realized that, although Hippolyte appeared affronted on his behalf, he was also eying the woman with interest. _Damn_ , he thought. He had forgotten that Hip had already met the woman. And he had believed Dick had had a ten seconds crush on her. When he opened his mouth again, the older man anticipated the rest of his words with dread:

“He’s been working very hard and he was late to pick me and so he was in a hurry. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you, especially since you’re so pretty.”

Dick felt his face burn. The woman stared at Hip, then at him, with an expression that spoke volumes.

“He’s the best half a brother, you know,” the boy went on boldly. “He never gets angry even when I spill water on his report for work or I get sick on his shoes.”

Dick’s embarrassment turned to astonishment. The unashamed little liar was never sick. Neither had he spilled anything on his stuff. What was he playing at?

“Is that so?” The woman said, and he noted her glare had slowly turned into amusement. Hippolyte nodded vigorously.

“Yep! And he’s handsome and strong and smart too. Mother says it’s a shame he doesn’t have a lover because he has a great-”

“Okay that’s enough,” Dick butted in and ran a hand in the boy’s hair while laughing nervously. “Why don’t we go warn your teacher that I’m here and we get going, right?”

Hippolyte grinned and the older man knew, just knew this meant trouble.

“I’ll go! You apologize to the pretty lady.”

This time the woman snorted –or rather hid her snort behind her hand –and watched the boy leave in a hurry.

“You found the perfect wigman?” she asked, sounding a lot less angry this time. Dick wished the ground could swallow him whole. He ran a hand in his hair, slightly abashed.

“I’d say he’s a liar, but it wouldn’t put me in a good light, would it?” his smile faded. “I was in a hurry. I should have been more careful.”

The woman snorted again and shook her head.

“With such a champion, I can forgive it. It’s just a bruise, it’ll fade fast.”

Her guard was lowering and Dick thought he could use this as an opportunity.

“Can I offer you a drink sometime to make it up to you?” he asked. “Or a tour of the city? You’re new around here, right?”

Said guard was back up in a split second.

“How do you know that?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

“You have a light accent.” He paused and added with a sheepish smile: “And the return address of your bag is still in New York.”

She glanced at said bag –or more specifically at the tag attached –and made a face.

“I _should_ change that. So you’re a cop?”

This time, Dick blinked, caught off-guard. The woman was smirking now, happy to have the upper hand.

“Your badge,” she pointed out at his slacks, where indeed, his insignia was still hooked at his belt. “Fine, I’ll take the tour of the city. And for your intel, I live in Metropolis, but I have been curious about Gotham for a while.”

“You’ve got yourself a local expert,” he replied with sincerity –because really, who better than Robin to avoid the worse parts and direct to the bests? And he’d have time to figure out what exactly she was doing here. “You have a phone number?”

She handed him a card, hinted in no uncertain terms that she expected him to call sooner than later and waved as she left. Once the door was shut, he studied the piece of paper critically. Classic, white with red borders and a small camera drawn on the corner. ‘D. Stacey: Photograph’ was written in capital letters above a number. No address. Just a plain business card. Nothing much to go on, he thought. But at least he had a name. And a phone number. And probably a location –if she did come from New York.

He snorted inwardly, thinking this would be the most fun he had in tracking down someone in years.

“Mr. Grayson?”

Dick nearly jumped out of his bones when he realized Hip had returned, dressed for the outside and carrying his backpack. Behind him, the teacher looked ready to burst into something –tears or anger, he couldn’t really say.

“Please tell Mr. Wayne that his son has an unparalleled skill to evade attention, and that we would really like him to stop doing this. We really try to keep our students’ safety a priority.”

In other words, they were either incompetents fearing for their jobs, or Hip was learning to pull a Batman far too early. Either way, Dick smiled tightly.

“I will tell him. Let’s go Hip.”

The boy obediently took his hand and followed him outside, humming happily. It wasn’t until he was strapped in the back seat that he opened his mouth again:

“So, is the pretty lady your girlfriend now?”

And Dick knew he too was in for a long embarrassing night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is a bit slow to pick up, but it will pick up, promise :) More Diana & Bruce in the next chapter.  
> Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here comes a very belated third chapter -apologies everyone ^^"  
> Many thanks to my beta for checking it out :)

**Son & Daughters**

**3**

_‘Since when do you and Diana speak of my love life? Hip just tried to set me up with a stranger’_

Bruce stared at the text he had just received. Dick’s complaints could be legitimate if he had any idea where that notion had popped from his son’s head. Unless-

“Is everything alright?”

Diana approached him from the side, her short heels not making a sound on the wet ground. He greeted his wife with a twisted smirk:

“Hippolyte has been eavesdropping again. He is getting involved in Dick’s love life.”

Diana snorted and took her seat next to him. For her comfort, a customized chair had been brought down in the cave at Alfred’s urging. Though she had protested the idea at first, Diana had quickly adapted to the change when their daughter became more active. Despite Bruce’s repetitive assurances that he and Alfred could handle things in the cave, she insisted on being present whenever they planned his future actions. And it was more practical for her to be there if only for the support material. Though his house was rather safe, he didn’t want to risk a break-in and having a random thief stumbling upon compromising documents if he brought his work home.

“His naptime has diminished greatly, he is growing fast,” she acknowledged with a hint of sadness. “How does that make us responsible for his nosiness?”

“I think it was the time we discussed which of your friends would be a good match for him,” he reminded her. “Hip had been listening for god knows how long before we realized he was here.”

Diana nodded in remembrance.

“Either he’s getting better at disguising his presence, or we are getting sloppy.” She smiled lightly. “My ego says the former, but I have also been out of sorts with this little one,” she admitted. Her hand ran over her belly, a gesture that never failed to make Bruce feel warm. “The same happened when I was pregnant with Hip; I was easily distracted.” She paused and glanced at the computer screens. “Shall we?”

He touched the keyboard and the screens came to life.

“I have been looking for video feed of abnormal activity all over the country,” he started to explain. “I caught this the other day.”

One touch launched the file. The picture of a second-rate camera of a grocery store began rolling. They watched as a young man watched a man pointing a gun at the cashier. A blink of an eye later, the thief was down and the young man was smiling.

“A speedster?” Diana asked, clearly surprised. “You were lucky to catch this at all.”

“Thank Alfred –he’s the one who actually went through the footage. I had a meeting Lucius wouldn’t let me skip.” He saw her snicker briefly before returning her attention to the screen. Only four people on this planet could bend his will with the right arguments –Alfred, Lucius Fox, Dick and her. Five, he amended, if Hippolyte used his puppy eyes. “His name is Barry Allen.”

“What makes you think he is your time-traveler? Did you recognize him?”

Bruce leaned back. That was the complicated part to explain.

“It’s just a feeling. His background is…” he paused. “I might learn more if I speak to him face-to-face, but I have a hunch it might be him.”

And even if Barry Allen wasn’t his time traveler, his second objective was to make contact and keep an eye on another metahuman.

“Should I come with you?” she inquired, even though she must have suspected the answer.

“I’d rather not,” Bruce replied, waiting for her reaction. Some days, she would berate him for cocooning her. Some others, she’d accept his judgment. Today was the latter, he thought when she merely nodded.

“When will you approach him?”

“The moment we find him. He has been moving around a lot, switching jobs. His father is in prison though, so it shouldn’t be a hardship.” He leaned back in his chair, contemplating the latest statistics he had calculated. “We only have to wait for the prison warden to send us a signal, and then we follow him.”

Diana pressed her lips together and nodded in agreement. He knew she hated waiting, but waiting was part of the job. That, and research.

“Let time do its work then,” she murmured. The subject was closed for the time being, at least until the warden called. He was about to offer her a snack when she carried on: “I had a call from Kent,” she announced. “He’s urging us to answer an interview with Lois Lane.”

Bruce grunted in distaste. Clark Kent was still a source of disagreement between them. While they had reached an understanding regarding his private life –they would not interfere, especially since he had one widowed mother to protect –his Superman persona was a different matter. The man was entitled to his privacy, but Bruce still kept a close watch on the superhero’s public moves. So far, he helped people, did a bit of heavy lifting around the world. He couldn’t put an end to wars but, as if he were trying to atone for his absence after Metropolis, he did show up whenever he was needed.

That had redeemed him in Diana’s eyes. Bruce was not as easily swayed.

Still, the interview needed to be done and there were very few journalists he trusted to do a good job. The Gotham Gazette would go nuts if he dared give the exclusive to a Metropolis paper. There weren’t many solutions to that problem.

“I will arrange something this weekend,” he conceded. “A journalist from Gotham Gazette in the morning and Miss Lane in the afternoon, to keep things fair.”

Diana nodded. Her hand caressed her belly, a sign that she was still deep in thought.

“I was also wondering whether we should tell him about the kryptonite’s effect on him.”

He stared at her in disbelief.

“Do you truly believe he knows nothing about it?”

“When would he have learned such a thing?” she pointed out. “He didn’t know he was from a different planet until recently.”

Bruce wished she didn’t have this twisted sense of fairness. At least, she had raised the subject with him before doing anything rash.

“You know why I don’t want to tell him.”

“And for now, I agree,” she replied. “However, please remember that one day, this slight advantage you have will become known to the public. And it’d be nice if we were the ones to inform him before he learns it from someone else. I want to keep him as an ally, not a resentful tool.” He stared at his wife with a frown. He hadn’t realized she could think so…calculatingly.

“Diana, I’ve handled partnerships before.”

She shot him an amused look, to which he had the decency to feel embarrassed. True, he had worked with others before, but none of that had ended well.

“I’ll call the Daily Planet, since they left their number at my office. You care for the Gotham Gazette?” she went on. “They left their number at my office.”

He nodded warily. He didn’t think she’d drop the matter so quickly.

“We will tell Kent eventually,” she warned him. The glint in her eye made his senses tingle warningly in the oddest way. “Dick and you haven’t finished analyzing everything anyway.”

Or maybe she was learning where to pick her fights. And that was problematic, because she wasn’t wrong. If something big happened, they would need the big guns by their side and with the right treatment, Superman would join them willingly, and not reluctantly. Bruce sometimes wondered if Diana wasn’t the incarnation of the conscience he tended to ignore. Before meeting her, he would have never even considered divulging the weakness of such a strong being to said being. Then again, if he hadn’t met her and Hippolyte, he would have worked twice as hard to find a way to take him down.

“Fine,” he conceded and glanced at the clock. Eleven pm. He needed to get going. As if sensing his shift of mood, Diana smiled and stood from her seat. He watched her again, felt the familiar stirring in his chest. He still wasn’t quite comfortable showing his affection so openly with another, especially someone he genuinely cared for. It was a good thing that she seemed to understand what he couldn’t say out loud.

“Good hunting,” she said, bent forward, and kissed the top of his head. He held her back and pulled her down for a proper kiss. When they parted, her cheeks had flushed and her eyes flared predatorily. In those moments, Bruce wished he wasn’t so dedicated to his cause.

“Do you mind if I wake you upon my return?” he asked. His voice had turned a few octaves lower. Diana granted him a promising smirk.

“I’ll be waiting.”

S&D

Blood slowly leaked and spread on the floor. He glanced one last time at the cooling corpse and turned his attention to the clock. Ten p.m. _Good_ , he thought. No-one would come to check on his victim until tomorrow night, at least. He would be far gone by the time they found his body. It was a shame that the man had returned so early. A misshape from his part. There was supposed to be a gala attended by patrons and other antique lovers, and that man was supposed to stay till the early morning. Had he followed his original plan, he would still be alive. Only to be frustrated by a burglary. 

_No need for regrets_ , he thought again as he pulled a paper towel. In this quest, collateral damage would always happen. Ordinary people would never understand his motives, not until he was done. Only they would see his actions differently. Only then, the tide would change and he will be claimed a hero, or at least a martyr, to the cause.

He started wiping his knife with uttermost care. It was an ancient artifact, long and elegant, used for ceremonial sacrifices. Its blade glowed faintly as if demanding more from its current master.

“Soon,” he promised and gently shelved it back.

He returned to his victim’s office and continued his search. The desk was well organized, as were the files and books. It barely took him a moment to find what he needed: the catalog where every piece of the man’s personal collection was recorded. He went through the index, sought the name, switched to the wanted page. What he found did not please him. The helmet was no longer in Paris but shipped away to the USA for an exposition in Gotham.

 _Damnit_. He wasn’t supposed to step on the new continent until he was done gathering every tool. It was too risky otherwise. So far, he had ten. The helmet and the shield were the only things missing. The shield was the most pressing issue, as it had been lost ages ago on the black market. He was certain it would appear somewhere during his research.

No helmet, no shield. The ritual-

And then he paused, stared hard at a picture in the book. Sweat formed on his forehead as he recognized the very object that had been eluding him for weeks. The shield. The legendary shield of Athena. He read the side notes –useless data scribed through pagan’s eyes –and the most important words: sold to CS.

“My, my,” he whispered and felt a smile creeping on his face. A lucky star was shining brightly over him. The owner of the house hadn’t written down the full name of the buyer, but that didn’t matter. He hadn’t had many friends or contacts; going through his lifetime contacts would be a child’s game. And once he found who had inherited such a gift-

He reached for his phone, dialed a number he had committed to memory, and spoke:

“There has been a change of plans. Bring the others to the meeting place.”

He perceived the receiver’s curiosity through his hesitation, but calculated obedience prevented any questions.

_“Yes sir. For the fall of the fake god.”_

A vicious grin grew on his face. The helmet’s trail was plain as day. He could always retrieve it later. The shield took priority. And once the thirteen items were gathered, once the ritual was completed-

“For the fall of the fake god,” he echoed and hung up.

S&D

“Fine, okay, I’ll be there.”

Lois hung up the phone and groaned in discontent. Clark lowered his fork and stared at her in concern.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. The takeout had arrived and they were eating in the lunchroom of the Daily Planet. They enjoyed a well-deserved break after a hard morning –the article he had been assigned was harder to put down than expected and the deadline was approaching. He also had to put on the cape for two straight hours before being able to settle in front of his computer. Still, he graciously agreed to follow his favorite reporter to share their meal, as he hadn’t gotten much time with her. They were dating for now but hadn’t moved together yet. Aside from the occasional sleepover, he hadn’t been able to see her for long the past week.

“I got beaten by a newbie,” she replied, annoyed. “Stacey got to Diana before me. She found her workplace, the Gotham museum, and called straight there.”

“Already?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, she did say she had contacts in the Art world,” Lois muttered. “The interview is scheduled for Sunday. They want to play fair with the Gotham Gazette so it’ll happen in the Wayne Enterprise headquarters.” She made a face. “We’ll only be allowed to show up in the afternoon.”

Clark’s frown deepened.

“Do Waynes know _you_ are doing the interview?”

Lois ran a hand in her hair.

“Yeah, I think that’s why they set me up later. At least, that’s what Stacey suggested. Diana and I didn’t have a lot of time to talk, but I’d like to get to know her better. She sounded like an interesting person the few times I met her.”

He fell silent, wondered at whether he should start talking or not. Diana had given him the green light, and he thought Lois would benefit from knowing about her. Especially if Perry was still looking for traces of Diana in his spare time. He made up his mind and checked his surroundings –his vision saw no-one coming close and his ears spotted no eavesdroppers.

“She is an interesting person.” He announced. At Lois’s startled look, he added: “I met her a while back when I was traveling around the world.” He paused. “We didn’t really keep in touch though.”

He took another bite and waited. He probably should have waited until after work to mention it, but she was leaving for New York today because of a lead on whatever subject she was after, and wouldn’t return until Friday. And this was not something he wanted to speak of over the phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew her?” she asked eventually. There was a lingering suspicion in her voice as she narrowed her eyes. Her instincts were no doubt telling her he was hiding something. “Does she know about…”

“She doesn’t care,” he interrupted before Lois could assume that their estrangement was due to her rejection of his powers. “I think it’s because we’re not that different.”

By now, he was starting to learn that silence could speak volumes where his girlfriend was concerned. Right now, Lois seemed…confused.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“She was in Metropolis when it happened. You saw her there too.”

For a few seconds, her puzzlement seemed to grow. And then, he noted the moment she connected the dots. Her jaw fell in shock, her hand dropped her sticks and Clark was granted the knowledge that he had managed to render the greatest reporter of the Daily Planet speechless.

“You’re _kidding_ me.”

“I didn’t know until then either,” he added, amused by her reaction. In retrospect, he mustn’t have looked any better. It had taken him a few days to accept that Diana was a metahuman, and had deliberately chosen to hide her powers from him. “But she’s not like me.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling – _not an alien_. The matter of metahumans had been raised more than once lately, Clark knew she would catch his drift.

“Why tell me now?” she blurted. “And _here_?”

So many questions she wanted to ask, none of them she could ask now at her workplace, surrounded by dozens of journalists. Clark’s hyped senses could tell if they were overheard, so he felt safe enough to speak a little.

“She okay-ed it yesterday. Her husband knows about me, so it’s a fair game.” He paused and smiled sheepishly. “And I wanted to catch you off-guard for once.”

Lois did not smile back. Her surprise turned into irritation:

“ _That_ , mister, was not nice.” And then turned into concern: “And you are sure she’s no danger to you? She defeated you pretty fast last time.”

Clark grinned, amused. It was a good thing they had a conversation to clear any misunderstanding, else he might be worried too.

“We have an arrangement that we have no benefit in breaking.”

Lois was not placated. Her eyes narrowed and her fists tightened hard. 

“Never do that again,” she warned. He suspected that, had they been in a more private environment, she would have blown on him. “I’m serious Clark; don’t hide that kind of information from me.”

He raised his hands in defense, feeling guilty.

“I promise I won’t. Diana is a genuinely kind person; you have nothing to fear from her.” He became slightly more serious then: “I don’t know much about Bruce Wayne, but if she trusts him, I will give him the benefit of the doubt.”

She huffed, leaned back against her seat, and crossed her arms.

“He’s not bad,” she said. “And he cares for them.”

The curtness of her phrases informed Clark he was not out of the doghouse yet.

“You never did tell me how you met them,” he remarked in an attempt to lift the mood.

“Maybe another day,” she snapped and stood from her seat. The takeout cardboard box was empty. She dumped it in the trashcan and left the room in a hurry, her heels thumping on the floor.

Clark winced when the door slammed close. Well, it could have gone better.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry for the long wait.   
> I'll try to be faster next time.   
> Please enjoy :)

**Sons and Daughters**

**4**

Hippolyte was having a blast. His half a brother had picked him for a sleepover night during week school, he had been allowed to eat pizza, and now, Dick had a date with a pretty girl –and all thanks to him! Mother and father would be proud. They had had lots grown up conversations about Dick not having a girlfriend. Problem solved!

“Why do I have the feeling you’re being smug this morning?” Dick asked from behind the wheel.

Dick was now driving him back to school. He was in a weird mood, but Hippolyte had done his job, and he couldn’t help feeling happy. And whenever he felt very happy, others felt happy too. Mother said it was his power and he had to learn to control it someday, in due time. After all, he didn’t even know how it worked. It just _happened_.

“I had fun,” Hip said instead. “Can we do it again soon?”

His half a brother smiled.

“Sure. I’ll talk to your parents.”

Hip was about to suggest this weekend, before he remembered why this couldn’t be a good idea. Dick needed to spend time with the pretty lady, too. That’s what mother and father did occasionally. Alone time, they called it. Why they called it alone time when they stayed stuck in the bedroom still remained a mystery to him, but Alfred said he would understand once he was a grownup.

“Do you think you can bring your girlfriend to the next family meal?” he asked.

Dick did a funny noise, like the dog toy he had squeezed too hard once.

“Miss Stacey is not my girlfriend,” he replied with the oddest tone. “You shouldn’t meddle with people’s lives like that.” Hippolyte pouted. And to say he had put so much work into getting them together! It kinda felt insulting when Dick merely laughed at his disappointment! “I’ll find someone eventually, Hip. Thank you for worrying about me.”

The little boy huffed and crossed his arms. He looked outside as the car, stared at the defiling landscape. They were approaching his school now and his good mood had evaporated. As there was no parking spot, Dick stopped the car a little further down, stepped out, and helped him out of his seat. He kept chatting about nonsense the whole time, annoying the little boy even more. He suddenly was very eager to go to school and leave Dick behind.

In the afar, he heard the sound of people arguing. When he glanced up the road, two men were having a hard confrontation. Even from his spot, he could feel their anger and see their tight fists. Hippolyte knew this meant the situation would soon grow worse. Obviously, his big half a brother had seen them too but was hesitating.

“Go,” Hip immediately said. “It’s not good for people to fight.”

“You wait for me here, okay?” Dick ordered. Hip nodded before watching him head towards the brawlers.

His resentment fainted away as pride replaced it. His half a brother was maybe stubborn when it came to Hip helping him find a girlfriend, but he always stepped in when it was right. Just like mother, and just like father. He wanted to be like that too, when he was a grownup.

“Still such a goody two shoes, ain’t he.”

Hippolyte startled and looked up. A strange man wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, even though it was not sunny, was suddenly standing next to him. And he was staring at Dick talking to the two angry strangers. Hip didn’t like that and felt he needed to intervene somehow.

“Hello,” he said. “Can I help you?”

In confusing circumstances, always stay polite. Mother said so, and father said so too. The stranger snorted and started laughing. Hippolyte felt the hurt in the laugh, and it pained him. Whoever that was, the stranger was sad.

“So he had a brat, so soon after-” the man paused, stared down at him. “Damn, you have his face.”

Hippolyte blinked slowly, confused.

“Father says I also have mother’s smile,” he said. “Dick says I’m a bit of both.”

“And who exactly is your mother?” the man asked again, his voice strangled. “Another bimbo bitch?”

Hippolyte frowned.

“Mother is very pretty but she’s not a bimbo,” he protested. He stood straighter and said proudly: “She’s a curator at the Gotham Museum and she’s very smart. My name is Hippolyte. What’s yours?”

The man snorted again and narrowed his eyes.

“That’s none of your business,” he said and leaned forward. Hippolyte supposed that in different circumstances, he might have been scared. But no matter how angry the man was, he couldn’t feel himself in danger. Therefore, he held his gaze and waited for the stranger to continue: “And I’m gonna mess with your dad.”

The boy’s confusion deepened.

“So you are angry at father. Why’s that?”

The man snorted.

“That is none of your fucking business.”

Hippolyte’s frown deepened.

“He _is_ my father, it kinda is my business.”

“You’re a sassy one, aren’t ya?”

“I don’t know what sassy means, sir.”

“Means you’re an annoying brat.”

“Oh? Huh. I never thought that,” Hippolyte replied, frowning. “Mother says I’m vi-va-cious, not a-nno-ying. I don’t think I’m a brat. I say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’,” he added, not wanting the man to think he could be impolite.

The man only barked a laugh.

“So you know the meaning of _brat_ but not of _sassy_?”

“Yeah. Dick was sad one day and when I asked him why, he said ‘ _Jason was a loving brat’_ , but he didn’t say who Jason was and I didn’t know what brat meant, so I asked him about brat but not Jason, because whoever Jason is really made him sad.” Hippolyte added quickly: “Don’t tell mother or father, okay? I’m not supposed to know what brat means.”

The sudden shift in emotion was disconcerting. First, the man was sad, then he was angry, and more sad after. Both sad and angry. The man was very confusing, but he was upset. Hippolyte narrowed his eyes and cautiously asked:

“Do you need a hug sir?”

The man stood very still, and Hippolyte could feel shock, or surprise. Not hostility though, not yet, even though he could feel it simmering right under the surface.

“The fuck are you doing? What is Bruce teaching you in his house?” he spat and gesticulated angrily. Hippolyte pouted.

“Everyone likes hugs. You’re sad and I’m a good hugger. Mother says so!”

“Get the fuck away from me kid, you don’t know me. And you shouldn’t even be fucking born, fucking little bastard!”

Hippolyte bit his lower lip and thought about it. He had heard before grownups talk about strange things about his birth. He knew he was born ‘out of wedlock’, as some people said sometimes, and Tristan had called him a ‘ _batard’_ back in Paris. He shrugged in response. The people who had spoken were angry and jealous and mother said jealous and angry people said mean things all the time.

“It’s okay,” he said eventually. “I don’t care.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Hippolyte tried to catch his eye, but behind the thick sunglasses, it was impossible. He felt the inner turmoil building inside the stranger, felt both sadness and anger. Father often told him he needed to learn to recognize other feelings when people felt too much, so he would know how to reach them. It was tiring, but he still tried. Sadness and anger should be met with calm and logic though. Mother said that angry people always get angrier if you got angry at them. And Hippolyte felt he shouldn’t be angry at the stranger, even if he had just insulted him without knowing him first.

“I know I’m a bastard,” he explained slowly. “But Edwin is not happy because his parents aren’t nice with him even though they’re married. Mother and father weren’t married but they still love me, so I _really_ don’t care.” He could feel it every day, every time they looked at him. Even if he couldn’t place a name on every emotion, he definitively knew what _love_ felt. Filled with that confidence, he beamed and added: “You sure you don’t want a hug? I think you need one.”

The man glared hardened. He felt the same oddness again –confusion, Hip thought. Yes, the man was _confused_. He suddenly wanted to giggle –if a stranger was scared of a hug, he _really_ wanted to give him that hug.

“ _Hippolyte_!”

Dick’s voice echoed in the afar. The little boy turned around. His half a brother was running back in his direction. When he returned his attention to the stranger, he realized said stranger had vanished.

“Weird,” he muttered, and calmly trotted towards Dick.

The man said he wanted to mess with father, so he would show up again. Hip wasn’t afraid though. The man was afraid of hugs, so he was determined to give him one. And when he was caught –because he trusted mother and father to catch the stranger, he wouldn’t escape him!

SD

Bruce thought today would be an ordinary day. It had started well enough, with a passionate good-morning from his wife, little to no traffic on the way to work, no complaints from Dr. Donovan lying on his desk _and_ his secretary had made him a good coffee.

Of course, karma never allowed him rest, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when around nine, Dick called him with troublesome news.

“What do you mean, some guy approached Hip?”

He could feel the younger man’s anger through his tone.

_“He approached him, warn him that he would be causing you trouble soon, and left. Hip wouldn’t say more, but he looks determined.”_

Hippolyte, silent and determined? That didn’t sound good.

“Where did that happen?” He would have to hack the cameras around the school to find the footage. Run an identification on the guy. Hunt him down and clearly state that he better never approach his son ever again.

_“Outside the camera range, I already checked. The guy was sneaky, he wasn’t caught anywhere,_ ” Dick replied, frustrated. _“I did put a word at the school staff; told them to report any strange adult hanging around Hip too close.”_

Good. He would set up more cameras around the area. Just in case.

“Will you still pick him for lunch?” he asked.

_“Yeah, I promised him fast food today. And I want to try to get more details out of him.”_

“Thank you Dick.”

_“Don’t mention it. I’ll care for him,”_ he paused. A smile could be heard in his voice when he added: _“You’re the one who will have to tell Diana, after all.”_

And before the thought of delegating the task crossed his mind, his eldest son hung up on him.

_You little punk,_ he thought, glaring at the empty screen of his phone. Diana might have been in good mood this morning, but this was the best way to ruin her day. He was about to dial her number when his phone vibrated. A text message from Alfred.

_‘BA is at the penitentiary.’_

Bruce’s eyebrow raised a notch. Already? They had only found out about Barry Allen recently. Should he make his move now? What to do? _First, call Diana_. If he delayed information, she would have his head. Thankfully, he fell on her voicemail. He left a message, telling her to contact Dick for more details and added he was heading to meet their mutual friend earlier than planned. Central was only an hour’s fight away in helicopter. If he timed it right, he would arrive at the young man’s temporary residence right before he came back.

Yes, he might as well make his move now. The ward at the penitentiary would delay the interview a bit, a cruel thing for the young man and his father, but necessary to buy him time. Bruce put his coat back on, strode out of the office with a ‘ _cancel my morning meetings_ ’ to his secretary on the way and headed to the roof. He had another one, much more important, to attend to.

SD

Diana heard the message one hour later, after a long, tiring meeting of her own. Her mind was filled with reports, exchanges with her colleagues, work related news she could not care less about. Hearing about Hippolyte’s encounter with his new _friend_ made her incredibly angry. Only Bruce’s assurances that he would reinforce the surveillance around the school and their residence stopped her from leaving her office. She couldn’t do much, but the powerlessness irritated her even more.

She felt Brianna react to her turmoil and kick her belly. Diana moved a hand over her stomach in attempt to soothe both her and the baby. Her emotions were growing volatile lately, something that had also occurred during her first pregnancy. Hippolyte tended to stick to her lately, hyperaware of her shift of moods. She thought he might be acting too much as her emotional regulator. The thought both amused her and saddened her. While he was overjoyed at having a sibling, she knew the situation wore on him.

She grimaced. Thinking of her son brought her back to the morning incident. If she ever put her hands on the one who dared approach him-

“…is it a wrong time?”

Diana glared at the newcomer. Tony was standing in the doorway, a stack of papers in his left hand, the right one still on the door. He looked intimidated, halfway ready to bolt out. She breathed in deeply, forced herself to calm down, and gave him a half-smile.

“I’m sorry, I just had bad news.”

“Oh. Do you need to leave?” he inquired with a quizzical brow.

“It was more unpleasant than bad, but still unwelcomed,” she nuanced. No need to leave yet, Bruce and Dick were handling the situation. There was little she could do now anyway. “How can I help you?”

Tony grimaced, stepped in, and closed the door behind him. Diana immediately sensed the shift in the room –he looked serious, far more serious than she had seen before. Something was wrong.

“I didn’t want to raise the matter during the meeting,” he explained before she could ask. “But I wanted your opinion as to whether you wanted to alert your colleagues or not, about this situation.”

He dropped a handful or papers on her desk. The first was the printed version of a web article from an English newspaper. The headlines described the gruesome death of a curator. Diana frowned, changed the page. Another article, Spanish this time. Same theme. When she skipped to the third page, she read that another curator had been assassinated in his own apartment in France.

“I had a call from Interpol,” Tony went on calmly. “The murderer is targeting curators specialized in ancient artifacts. Roman antiquities, more precisely. He started his spree two months ago. They only made the connection yesterday.”

“It’s the same man?” she asked, skipping over the lines in hand. The victims had been gutted, sharply and precisely. There were no pictures of the victims, but the journalists described everything they could –or were allowed to.

“The method is the same. Apparently, he tortures his victims for information and kills them with a knife straight in the jugular. They figured the murders were tied together after he’s stolen a few artifacts on the way –artifacts only those poor souls knew about,” he sighed, obviously uneasy. “The last victim was supervising the shipment of a few Roman artifacts that our museum borrowed for the exhibition. That’s why Interpol called me, by the way. It could be a coincidence, but since you fit the same profile, I’d rather you be aware of the situation.”

Diana contemplated another article, written in German this time. The man had been striking all over Europe –and, if it was indeed a one-man job, at a formidable pace. She would have to call her own contact at Interpol for further details. Mo would forward the information if she asked. If not, she and Bruce would just hack the system.

_And there goes another issue that we could really do without,_ she thought bitterly.

“I know the security around here is pretty tight, and your husband is powerful and influential,” Tony went on. “But if he could keep an extra eye on you, I’d feel a bit better.” Diana raised a questioning eyebrow. He added quickly, his face flushing red: “Don’t get me wrong, I just want to make sure my employees are safe!”

“Of course, thank you,” she replied, keeping her face neutral.

For a few seconds, neither said a thing. Then, Tony cleared his throat:

“Just –I’m just going to leave now. Yeah, and uh- should I take back-?” he gestured at the article pages.

“I would like to keep them,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”

He winced, rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, okay, sure. Just tell me if you think you want to upgrade security around or, whatever. We live in Gotham, but I don’t want to spread unnecessary panic.” He paused. “The next few days are going to be heretic, so if you need an assistant or something –I have a few resumes at hand.”

She didn’t miss how he subtly glanced at her stomach, and bit back an irritated sigh. She knew that, as the head of the archeology department, she would have more work in the upcoming days. An assistant might relieve her, if only temporarily. And Bruce would be less on her back about overworking.

“I’ll think about it, thank you,” she said eventually. Tony got the hint and made his escape. When he closed the door, she redirected her gaze on the printed articles, feeling very weary. Perhaps, as the other man said, he was reading too much in the situation. Perhaps the madman would never come here. But one never knew what could happen, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look. _Definitively call Mo at lunchtime_ , she thought. _And let’s not forget Hippolyte’s new friend._

Diana groaned, leaned back in her chair and ran a hand over her face. Their quest to finding Themyscira would have to wait; they had more urgent things to consider.


End file.
